Shining Knight Under Duress
by corvusdraconis
Summary: SSHG/AU: Ron comes to "rescue" Hermione from her poor life choices before his mother explodes upon discovering that Hermione had turned down marriage long before she'd forced him to propose in front of Merlin and everyone. It goes about as well as one might expect. (COMPLETE)


**Summary**: SSHG/AU: Ron comes to "rescue" Hermione from her poor life choices before his mother explodes upon discovering that Hermione had turned down marriage long before she'd forced him to propose in front of Merlin and everyone. It goes about as well as one might expect.

**Beta Love:** Unsupervised! AHHHHHHHHHHHH! (_Not anymore! - Dragon_)

**Warnings:** I bash things. Frequently. And with enthusiasm.

**A/N**: This story is dedicated to Dutchgirl01, who was taken out of commission by the flu. Happy early birthday, Dutchgirl01!

* * *

**Shining Knight Under Duress**

**A Corvus Draconis Shorty-Short**

_People are capable of incredible gallantry and terrible cruelty in situations of extreme duress_

**Ann Aguirre**

* * *

Evil was six feet of parchment because you blew up a cauldron.

So what if you blew out the castle wall.

So what if they had to replace half the classroom. No one died.

Evil was having to train for two years to be an Auror even after winning a war.

Evil was having to sit N.E.W.T.s even with the waiver because Harry Sodding Potter said it wouldn't be fair otherwise.

Evil was having to have had to go back to school after you'd already been out of Hogwarts saving people and then having to be in your baby sister's classes.

Heroes shouldn't _**have **_to go back to school. They'd saved the world. That was the ultimate test, right?

Evil was having to fight for a desk that wasn't shoved in the back because he was the youngest of the surviving Aurors and no one in the Auror office cared if you were a hero if you couldn't hold your own.

Oh sure, Voldemort had been evil, hands down, but there were so many _other _kinds of evil.

Like Snape.

Evil was having to go get Hermione after his mum had forced him to propose to her and make a decent witch out of her only to have her embarrass him in front of everyone by saying no.

Who the hell was she to say no?

It wasn't like she had anyone _else _that was willing to tolerate her bookworm ways.

Why the hell did she swan off to this place of all places?

It looked like the sodding Malfoy Manor.

Was she trying to say she'd rather be with Malfoy than—

Impossible.

Malfoy would rather _die _than touch a Muggleborn.

He checked the tracking gem he had in his pocket. No, this was the right place. Who owned this place? Surely not Hermione. Hermione wasn't rich. No way.

As he knocked on the door, the metal knocker made a deep clang that resounded through the door.

A few minutes passed, and Ron was about to knock again when the door opened.

"Mr Weasley," a familiar voice drawled, making his blood run cold. "What brings you to _my _doorstep?"

Snape.

No fucking way.

Snape had always been tall and foreboding, but he was dressed in a deep purple brocade vest over silken trousers. A dark and almost black forest green cravat bulged from his neckline, contrasting against his pale skin. Dark abalone buttons trailed a line down his chest all the way down to his belt.

"Snape," Ron spat, trying to ignore the surge of jealousy in just seeing Snape dressed well. "I'm here for 'Mione."

"I fear there is no one here by that name," Snape replied, his dark eyes fathomless as ever.

"I know for damn sure she's here."

"There is no one named 'Mione' here, Mr Weasley."

"_**HERMIONE**_, you bloody git!"

Snape's corner of the mouth twitched only slightly. "Ah, _Hermione_. Why didn't you say so? I fear she is not accepting visitors. Perhaps, you can make an appointment."

"I'm not going to make an appointment to see 'Mione, you bloody bastard!"

"I assure you while my father remained something less than desired that he and my mum were very married."

Ron pushed Snape aside and barged in, calling for 'Mione.

"Mione! Mione!" he called.

He stopped in his tracks as he heard soft moaning from behind the door.

No. No way was Mione doing that with someone else!

He saw the gem glow brightly and scowled. He obliterated the door into smithereens and forced his way in.

"_**WHAT THE HELL, RONALD!"**_ Hermione's voice screeched.

A glowing stone on the desk was casting soft lighting in the room as the sound and scent of the sea filled the room. A head full of long, platinum hair fell about a figure face down on a table, back exposed save for a blanket covering their lower body.

"You're fucking Malfoy?!" Ron blurted.

"It's called a _massage_, you sodding git! Get the _**hell **_out of here!"

"You're sexually massaging _**MALFOY?!**_"

"Get _**OUT!**_" Hermione roared, her magic crackling around her so strongly that her hair formed into glowing serpents that hissed at Ronald. A blast of plasma hit Ron dead on, throwing him out of the room with a loud crack.

Ron was seeing dancing hippogriffs on a field of black as his vision slowly crept back to him.

As he lay supine and spread-eagled on the floor, he could just start to make out ornate mythical motifs carved into the ceiling murals. The soft music was still playing from the other room.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Lucius."

"It is fine, my dear. The hour was upon us anyway."

"I will leave you to dress," Hermione's voice said. "_Reparo."_ The sound of wood and metal coming back together came shortly after as a door closed.

"Ronald, you have five minutes to tell me why in Merlin's you barged into my home, my place of business, and think I'm not going to call the Aurors for having tracked me down using spells I know for a fact are only for tracing criminal locations under a warrant!"

He heard hissing like that of a snake and moved to stick his finger into his ear. That _couldn't _be right.

"Look, 'Mione," he started to say. "I know I kinda of ambushed you with that proposal and all, but I wanted to think about the benefits, yeah? You didn't even consider it before you left. What was I supposed to think?"

"That no means no," Hermione said. There was a sliding sound as if something was being dragged across the tile. Something heavy.

Ron managed to sit up, rubbing his eyes as the stars continued to circle.

"You're a bloody idiot, Ronald," Hermione said. She huffed, and it seemed to echo with many different voices. "We were never meant to be. One kiss during the war does not equal true love. There was no magical fanfare, a bonding or anything of the sort. We were not meant for each other."

"That's not true!" Ron protested. "Mum knows that—"

"You're letting your mum tell you what you don't even feel yourself?"

"But, we _need _to be married, 'Mione," Ron said. "We can't have children without being married."

"And what makes you think I'm interested in children," she hissed, "with you?"

"Of course you want children!" Ron blurted. "All witches want children. It's obvious." He stopped. "Wait, what do you _mean _with me? Of course with me."

"Of course? Do you bloody _hear _yourself? We haven't even gone out on a proper date since the end of the war and you think you know me well enough to know what _I_ want? You're mad as a box of frogs, and I have no interest in dating you."

"Well, that's okay. We can just go ahead and get married. No need to spend money on stupid flowers and shite," Ron replied.

Lucius walked into the room, leaning on his cane slightly as he rotated his shoulders a little. "Thank you, my dear. Your touch is, as always, infinitely more therapeutic than all the wands in St Mungos put together."

"Don't forget your potions, Lucius," Hermione reminded him. "They are in the carrying crate by the hearth."

"Thank you, Hermione," Lucius replied, smiling. "You and Severus must come to dinner on Saturday to celebrate your healing mastery. Draco and Astoria will be especially put out if you do not attend your own party."

Hermione crossed her arms. "It's not that big of a deal."

Lucius chuckled. "Oh, but it _is_."

He raised her hand and gallantly placed a kiss just above her knuckles.

"No _**way **_you're kissing ruddy _**MALFOY!**_" Ron yelled, still staring at the ceiling.

Lucius' voice was a rumble of pure sadistic amusement. "Good day, Hhhhrrrrmione," Lucius purred, bowing out of the room as he stepped outside and Disapparated with a _**crack**_, potions crate in hand.

"Are we taking up a questionable new style of floor decoration?" Snape asked, staring down at the lumpy ginger rug that was a paralysed Ron Weasley with arch skepticism.

Ron's eyes moved back and forth, and his fingers twitched spasmodically. The rest of him, however, remained unmoving. "What the hell did you _**do **_to me, Snape?! I'm an Auror! They'll have your _**head **_for this!"

"Me? How flattering." Snape sneered down at him, a wall of forbidding black with a pale face rimmed in lank straight hair. "How, precisely, would it be _my _fault that you are flat on your back worshipping my ceiling?"

"You _**bewitched **_'Mione!"

"Oh, I will admit that it took every seductive technique in my arsenal to ensnare the sweet witch to accept my petition, but I will at least confess that none of it would have been possible had you not made that epic and yet quite purposeful botch of a potion during your reign of terror in my seventh year classroom."

"I'd _**never **_help you, Snape!" Ron hissed, struggling and seemingly quite confused as to why he was still unable to move off the floor.

"Oh, but you _have_, Mr Weasley," Snape's stern professorial voice rumbled. "Far more than you know. If it hadn't been for your little tampering, we'd never have known what you _really _thought of us."

Ron's brow creased in confusion. "Whut?"

Snape aimed his wand at Ronald.

"You _**can't **_kill me, Snape! Harry will put your arse in Azkaban!" Ron yelped. "He _**knows **_I'm here!"

Severus narrowed his eyes, and the glowing red tracking gem slid out of Ron's robes and floated towards him. "I rather doubt that, Mr Weasley. Very much so." Snape's eyes raked over the gem like a laser. "Auror tracking devices are strictly used for tracking criminals. How then do you explain your illegally tracking Hermione here to a private residence and business? A well-warded one no less. Hrm?"

"Piss off, Snape. Keeping me here against my will have the Aurors coming for you. So-called "hero" or not," Ron scoffed.

"By all means, Mr Weasley," Snape said, his voice like dripping venom. "Do call for them, if you would. Trespassing in a warded, registered safe house is punishable by death. Excusable. Even applauded. You see, the old laws are _still _very much alive. The only ones permitted on the premises outside of the current residents are our Oath-bound, pre-approved, token-carrying clients, and you are _not _one of those."

"You're a bloody Dark wizard, Snape," Ron spat furiously. "I don't _**need **_any reason to check up on the likes of you!"

"Pot meet kettle, Mr Weasley."

"I'm _**not **_a Dark wizard!" Ron snarled, fighting to get up off the floor.

Snape's laughter was a low vibration that seemed to rattle the floor. "Oh, but you most definitely _are_, Weasley." He leaned over a trembling Ronald with an impressive sneer. "You became one the moment you created a very Dark potion in my classroom and transformed two innocent persons into XXXXX Dark creatures the likes of which no one had ever seen before."

"Two innocent persons and one half-Kneazle," Hermione's voice chimed in with the tone of annoyance in her voice.

"You're _**lying!**_" Ron yelled. "_**No one**_ was hurt in that explosion! It was an _**accident!"**_

"The only accident that occurred that day, Mr Weasley, was that you actually managed to create a working potion— the kind of potion that, could you have repeated it intentionally, might have eventually provided the holy grail of potions: true immortality." Severus idly ran his tongue across his incisors.

His very _pointed _incisors.

"_**Vampire!"**_ Ron cried out in horror, suddenly able to move as he staggered backwards into the hallway.

Snape tilted his head to look at Ron at an angle, his eyebrow raised. "I'm not sure why you think this so terribly surprising, Mr Weasley. You are, after all, the one who was responsible for making me this way."

"Severus, I heard voices," a familiar voice called from the stairs as the pattering of feet indicated that someone was approaching. "Do we have vis—_**Oh!"**_

Minerva stood on the stairs looking very much the silver tabby only she was upright on two legs instead of four. "Mr Weasley," she said in a half-meow. "However did you— Severus, did _you _invite—?"

"No, Minerva," Snape answered dryly. "I fear he invited himself."

Ron's eyes grew very, very wide as he saw a kind of reptilian almost-cat that looked like someone had merged a velociraptor with a feline and given it the fins of a lionfish.

"Mrrowl," the un-cat said, tail twitching.

"No, no, no!" Ron blurted. "She wasn't even _**THERE **_when it happened!"

Minerva frowned. "_What_ happened?"

"He's finally coming to terms with what he did," Snape said, utterly stoic.

"I didn't turn McGonagall into a bloody cat-thing!"

"Cat sidhe, if you really must know, Weasley" Minerva huffed with an annoyed-sounding meow. "Cat-thing is so _vulgar_."

"Oh, are we having tea?" Luna's voice came from around a door. "I didn't even make crumpets. I hope chocolate biscuits will suffice."

Pitter=pattering that did not quite line up with shoes approached, and Luna showed up, silver tea service in hand.

Only her bottom half was pristine white and furry with cloven hooves and a doe's legs. Doe ears stuck out of her blonde-white hair, twitching as she walked, no pranced, up in a sort of bounce. She wiggled her nose, and a mushroom table grew out of the floor along with a few seats before she placed the service on it and sat down.

She pulled out the Quibbler and started to read like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"What the _**fuck?!**_" Ron blurted.

"Language, Weasley," Snape snapped, and Ron automatically winced before his face grew red giving him the appearance of a ripe tomato with carrot hair.

"You're not pinning this on _**me!**_" Ron hissed.

"Merlin, what is all this racket?" a sleep-encrusted voice muttered as a man with stag horns growing from his head, pointed ears, black as pitch fur, deer legs, and a messy mop of oh-so-familiar black hair came out from another door. "Oh good, tea."

He sat down at the table, poured some tea, took a bite out of a biscuit, washed it down, and then leaned over to kiss Luna. "Good morning, love."

"Morning, Harry."

"_**HARRY?!"**_

Harry's ears laid back. "Ron? What are _you _doing here? Did you have a latent change too?"

"A lay ten _**who?**_"

"Mummumumumumumumumummmmm!" a chorus of voices called as three seemingly mutant children rushed the table. "Can we go out to play?!"

"Have you finished your chores?"

"Yes!"

"Washed the Crumple-horned Snorkack?"

"Yes!"

"Made your nest?"

"Yes!" the voices chimed. They all looked at Luna and Harry with wide eyes, deer tails flicking, tiny antlers growing from their heads, and pointed ears perked forward with anticipation.

"Be polite to our guest, then you may go play," Luna said.

"Hi, guest!" the fawns said, waving.

"You may go," Luna said, turning the page in the Quibbler.

"Thanks, mummy!"

The fawns bolted out the front door after stealing biscuits from the tray.

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Ron, if you're going to live here, you're going to have to stop pointing a wand at people."

"Why the _**FUCK**_ would I want to live in this freakshow?!" Ron blurted.

Harry set down his teacup. "Ron, you're here, which means you _must _have undergone a change, mate. I know you're not a client for Hermione or Severus."

"_**Hermione and Severus is it now?!" **_Ron roared.

"It is his name, Ronald," Hermione said, and she cracked her neck as she let her hair down from the bun it had been messily placed together with a quill.

Her hair fell heavily around her head— and then _slithered_.

Tiny mouths yawned sleepily as a tussle of serpents unfurled from her head.

It was then and only then that Ron noticed that Hermione's very droolable, female figure (since _when _did 'Mione have breasts?) descended down into—the body of a gargantuan serpent the like of which made a certain infamous basilisk look small.

Hermione pulled a silken cloth from seemingly nowhere and tied it around her head to cover her eyes. She felt around, searching.

Snape placed a hand on hers, and she beamed, following it up to feel his face. "There you are." She touched around his mouth and funneled, bat-like ears. She pulled his head down and proceeded to snog him quite thoroughly.

Snape staggered a bit, growling, as she ended the kiss, and he pulled her to him with a swift tug. His arms folded around her as he buried her face into his hair. He hissed, his mouth parted in elation as his fangs showed. "You are _insatiable_, my wife."

Hermione purr-hissed. "You _love _me."

"So it seems," he replied, his gaze softening. He caressed her face with his fingers and palm, and she leaned into it.

Ron's look of utter horror twisted his face into something ugly, his nose scrunching and mouth wide open like a Venus fly trap.

"Mmmmm," Hermione hummed, rubbing her cheek against Snape's. "You smell _delicious_."

Snape's look was dark and possessive. "Hrrr."

"_**What the hell is going on here?!" **_Ron yelled, his voice seemingly trying to become his mum's infamous banshee-like screech.

"Why don't you sit down and have lunch, Ron," Harry said. "If you were ported here, then you must have undergone some unexpected changes. Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I do not believe he arrived in the traditional manner," he said.

Harry blinked. "Ron?"

Ron's jaw tightened. "Why don't you explain why you're all dressed up like some Halloween freak show, Harry?!"

Harry frowned. "It was because of the accident at Hogwarts, Ron. The one that blew out the dungeon laboratory walls?"

"Yeah, what about it? It was an _**accident!**_"

"An accident that hurt a lot of people!"

Ron's face screwed into a scowl. "It didn't hurt anyone."

Harry's expression seemed to pucker. "You obviously remember a very different day than the rest of us, Ron. Don't you remember my having to spend over a month in the infirmary along with half of our classmates?"

"You shouldn't have tried to protect Snape," Ron said darkly.

"That's what you get out of it?" Harry's fist clenched.

Luna put down the Quibbler and sighed. She pulled out a piece of parchment and used her wand to glide it to Ron.

Ron took it automatically as a vortex formed under his feet and sucked him in as he screamed his head off.

"Luna, what the _**hell **_was that?!"

Luna calmly sipped her tea. "A reality cheque."

* * *

Ron found himself being smashed face-first into a stone wall even as the sensation of being flushed down a toilet eased. He groaned in pain, rubbing his head and wincing as that caused him pain too.

He looked around to see a magical field of some sort glowing in the destroyed remnants of the potions classroom. Students were suspended inside of it, frozen in time as the cauldron explosion hung in the air. Some of the students had already been hit by the explosion, but some were only just outside. The suspension of time was the only thing keeping them from being splattered.

Hermione was standing at the edge of the bubble of magic, her hands splayed as if holding the magic up by sheer force alone. Her skin was red and scalded as potion dripped from her body. Even as she whimpered in agony, she stood strong against the barrier, focusing her magic into form out of her will alone.

The side of the classroom was utterly obliterated, and lake water was gushing through, but it, too, was frozen in place as Snape used a spell to force the water inexorably backwards. The water had mixed with a great deal of the potion, and Snape was sopping wet even as he drove the water backwards— water that was mixing with all of the combined potions that had been brewing in the classroom.

The water was swirling around both Hermione and Snape, and it was clear that while the both of them were powerful, they were not infinite in their magical power.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Hermione was pushing the bubble of stasis into the hall outside, splitting off the main shield into smaller bubbles so they would fit out the door. She anchored each one with a tether as she struggled to breath, but even as she did, she whispered words.

"Goddess Hecate, goddess of magic, Worker From Afar. Goddess of witchcraft. Goddess of the night and moon. Goddess of ghosts. Goddess of necromancy, She who holds dominion over heaven, earth, and sea, bearer of light in the night to guide the seekers. I, Hermione, but a lowly witch, a mortal, beg your ear. Grant me the power to save these children who have seen far too much loss already, a war only just finished, and pain all too recent."

Another explosion of lake water came from outside, the pressure on the broken wall too much to hold back. Snape went sliding backwards as his magic flared. He cursed and his magic flared higher, driving the water back, but his skin was getting even paler as the frigid cold and weariness was slowly claiming him.

They stood, back to back— Dark wizard and Gryffindor witch.

Yells were coming from the hallway as the students were screaming hysterically even as teachers were yelling at them to run somewhere else. Panicked students prevented the teachers from assisting those trapped within the bubbles. Idiot photographers with cameras tried to take pictures both for the school paper and in hopes of selling their work to the _Prophet._

Minerva's voice merged with Filius' with a Sonorus, and they sent the students packing, even as the staff attempted to undo what Hermione had done to save the students. Filius cast spell after spell, moving people by force to get out of the way, setting up barriers to keep those he moved out. Minerva snapped orders to the house elves, having them reach into the bubbles and Apparate the victims to the infirmary directly.

Hermione and Snape remained back to back, spines aligned as their magic seemed to weave together, Hermione moving the victims out and Snape moving the water back.

The floors and walls were shaking.

"_**The wall isn't going to hold, Miss Granger! Save yourself!"**_

"_**Not on your life, Professor!"**_ Hermione yelled back, pushing the last of the victims out the door.

"_**GET OUT OF THERE, HERMIONE!" **_Ron yelled, his body seemingly floating between the desks, but neither gave any sign of hearing him. "_**LET THE GIT DEAL WITH IT!"**_

The walls were shuddering violently, threatening to collapse.

Ron ran towards Hermione, feeling the pain from his recent fall and believing that if he felt pain everything was real enough—

He pushed Hermione, his hands out, shoving her towards the door—

He phased right through her, staggering through the open door to land flat on his face.

"_**Miss Granger!"**_ Minerva called out frantically. "_**Severus!" **_

The heavy doors to the potions classroom closed by magic, Hermione's will to save them all from the onslaught of water sealing the hall away even as the roar of water sounded from the other side.

Ron tried to beat on the massive door, and his body slid right through it again.

He stood, gobsmacked, watching in awe as a cocoon of silvery moonlight glowed from the dark water. Inside, Hermione clung to the dark wizard's robes as his arms wrapped tightly around her body in a protective embrace.

Snape's back was to the broken wall as he tried to shield Hermione from the rushing water.

Their bodies floated together, suspended in time and space, as glowing tendrils of magic wove around them. One by one the tendrils of moonlight joined the mass, tightening inexorably around the pair.

Ron threw himself at the glowing tendrils. "_**No! No way! 'Mione wake up! Get out of there! You don't want to be with that greasy Slytherin git!**_"

His hands went through them.

He went through them.

"_**MIONE!"**_ he screamed.

Inside, they were changing—

The swirling whirlpool of tampered, exploded, mixed, and re-exploded potions moved inside the cocoon of moonlight. Their limbs twitched, skin crawling, moving, changing. Hermione's lower body seemed to slowly elongate, ripple, writhe. Scales formed over her skin. Her bushy hair smoothed and then gathered into thick cords that came alive as clusters of hissing serpents with eerily glowing eyes.

Snape's body, too, underwent changes. His nails elongated into long, transparent claws. Ears twisted into funnels— bat-like. His alabaster skin grew even paler than before as fine, opalescent scales formed along his hairline. His body jerked, his mouth snapped as his teeth sharpened into sharp pointed fangs. A long, sinuous whipped behind him, curling around the moonlight cocoon.

Light came from the cocoon, brightening to the point where Ron could no longer see—

* * *

Ron was falling again, only this time he landed in the infirmary.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. It seems like the mixture of potions has transformed everyone who was touched by it in some manner," Poppy gestured to the full infirmary. "If Miss Granger hadn't put that stasis bubble up, far more people would have been exposed."

"How many have been exposed, Poppy?" Minerva asked. Suddenly she winced, slumping.

Poppy summoned a chair in a quick gesture. "Sit down, Minerva!"

Minerva groaned, her hands clutching at her head.

_**Pop!**_

Two feline ears emerged from her head. When she looked up, her pupils showed as slits.

"Oh, Minerva," Poppy consoled. "You touched the potion."

Minerva shook her head. "I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to get them out of those bubbles—"

Poppy put a hand on her shoulder. "I want to call in my colleagues at St Mungos. I can't even begin to handle this mess alone."

Minerva nodded sharply. "Do it. Whatever you need."

Poppy hesitated.

"What are we going to do about Severus and Miss Granger?"

Minerva looked up, her eyes weary. "Let them sleep it off, Poppy. I don't think it's wise to wake them."

"But Minerva—"

"Propriety is hardly our main concern at this point, Poppy," Minerva said. "You tried to separate them already, and the changes only worsened."

Poppy winced. "But they _loathe_ each other," she said quietly.

Minerva closed her eyes. "They have both been— undervalued, Poppy." Minerva looked grim. "They share far more than they differ."

Poppy paled. "You can't be serious, Minerva. Miss Granger—"

"She sat her N.E.W.T.s in her sixth year, Poppy," Minerva said. "She was going to become an apprentice before everything went pear-shaped."

"Apprentice? With whom?" Poppy asked.

Minerva rolled her head back and forth, her neck making distinct popping sounds.

"With Severus?" Poppy whispered, her eyes going wide.

Minerva nodded. "It was a mere formality, really," Minerva said. "It was already done. That sodding bugger Albus forced them into it her second year after she turned herself into a cat-girl. I was told it was for the best. It was to keep Harry alive and I was told butt out. Keep my whiskers out of it. Severus demanded that she write up a formal paper so she could test and get her credentials. Albus agreed— knowing that she'd soon be haring off with Mr Potter to save the world. Severus had Miss Granger sending her projects to Amelia at the DoM so she could have her mastery once she officially graduated— but then she was attacked and had to go underground. She came back to officially finish her seventh year so no one could say she hadn't, but the truth is she's her own master, of age—more than of age, in fact."

"More than—" Poppy whispered. Her eyes widened. "Ohhh… she was time-turning."

Minerva nodded. "She tried to give it back in her fourth year, but Albus insisted that she keep it and use it to do whatever she could to help Mr Potter."

Poppy sat down hard. "Albus?"

Minerva sighed. "There is a lot the old bugger did that I didn't know about until—"

Poppy frowned. "Until _what_, Minerva?"

Minerva rubbed her neck. "Until after I had attacked Severus and the portraits told me what I had done."

"How could you possibly have known? We all thought—"

"We were all _idiots_."

Poppy stood up, pacing, then stared at the far infirmary curtain. "But, she's a child."

Minerva closed her eyes. "No. At Albus' behest, she gave up being a child in order to save Harry Potter. It was _she _who saved the one who was supposed to save us, over and over again while we chased our tails in the dark due to Albus' stubborn refusal to share his secrets."

"But I would have _known_, Minerva. You can't hide your age from my scans!" Poppy protested.

"Albus gave her a very special time-turner, Poppy." Minerva winced, blinking. "I believe he crafted it himself. He was always making— new tools. Strange gadgets. I think he gave back the one the Ministry knew about and gave Miss Granger his own— something he might have made for an entirely different purpose but found a use for it to ensure victory over Tom Riddle."

Ron had heard enough. He stormed past the two witches and went directly to the concealing curtain, yanking it aside roughly.

Curled up on two beds pushed together—

Hermione shivered miserably on the bed. "I'm so cold."

Snape pulled her to him, using his robes to help draw her close even as he pulled the infirmary's charmed blanket over them both. "I'm here," he said quietly.

"Severus," she whispered. "Am I hideous?"

"Never," he replied. "Why would you think that?"

"I hear them whispering," she said into his chest, even as she wrapped her arms around his body. "How freakish I am—their pity."

"People will always talk," Snape said. "Pick a topic. Roll a die."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"I know you didn't want people to know that—"

"Be silent."

Hermione jerked her head up, but Snape's expression was soft.

"Do not mistake my wish for you to finish your seventh year officially without my tainted shadow over you as lack of desire to be with you— however insane I may think you for even entertaining the idea of a life—" He hesitated. "With me. Now, especially."

"_**No, no, no!"**_ Ron yelled at them, his hands trying to pull Snape away from Hermione, but they passed through him. "_**Get away from 'Mione, you sodding old pervert!"**_

Hermione looked up at Snape. "You think because you sport a pair of impressive ears and elongated canines that I'll somehow forget who you are? What you mean— to me?"

"And yet, you somehow think that _I _will now that you have a few scales to your name?"

Hermione flushed. Her head-snakes tried to bury their heads into her serpentine tresses.

"Besides," he turned her face up to look at him. "It seems I am immune to your petrification— unlike that unfortunate owl."

Hermione burrowed into him in mortification. "I didn't _**mean **_to!"

Snape's mouth curved upward in a sly smile, a hint of fang showing. "It is most fortunate I seem to be your counter-curse, Hermione." His voice rolled her name as though savouring a fine wine.

Hermione, no longer shivering, looked into his black eyes. "You did that on purpose?"

"Would I do such a thing?"

"Obviously," she huffed as she pecked a kiss upon his nose.

Snape growled. "Miss Granger, we're in an infirmary."

"You started it."

Snape narrowed his eyes, only barely containing the rush of obvious desire swirling in his gaze.

"Do not make me prove my devotion here upon the sacred healing floor of Poppy's infirmary."

Hermione's serpent tail sneakily wrapped around him. "But what if I happen to _like _devotion?"

Severus' onyx gaze was heated. "I would say any more devoted, and we would be married, witch."

"Okay," Hermione replied, gazing up at him adoringly.

Severus' eyes widened. "I—" He swallowed hard. "I fear I do not have a ring for you."

Hermione frowned. "Are you a wizard or are you not?"

Snape tugged at his collar and then seemed to realise something. He fingered the top button on his frock coat and gave it a forceful yank. He eyed the green serpent center set in antique silver and gave it a considering look. He made a fist around it, and there was a powerful rush of heated magic. When he opened his hand, an exquisitely detailed silver serpent ring with an emerald heart clutched in its mouth lay resting in his palm.

Snape gave a loud swallow, his adam's apple bobbing visibly. He seemed to contemplate what to say, fail, wince, and then stare into space. "I'm a right bastard. I don't deserve you. I want to. Marry me."

Ron's hands frantically tried to push and pull Hermione out of Snape's embrace as he yelled. "_**No, 'Mione! You don't want to marry a greasy git! He wants to keep you a bloody snake so no one else will want you! Think of the kids with that nose! They'd all look like sodding vampires!" **_

Hermione's face seemed to crinkle as her eyes closed in a smile. "Oh, Severus." She chuckled. "That was an _amazing _proposal."

Severus turned his head, wincing and unable to look her in the eyes.

Hermione placed one hand to his cheek and turned his head around. "Neither of us are perfect. But I think—" She placed a kiss upon his nose. "We're perfect for each other. Yes, I _will _marry you."

She began to shiver again, her body rebelling in trauma against the changes she had undergone, stuck somewhere between the heat of human and reptilian cold blood. While her body was radiating heat, she sought it in equal measure.

"Sorry," she whimpered. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

Sensing her need, Snape pulled her close again, wrapping his body around her as he set a wordless and more powerful heating charm on the blanket before pulling it over them both.

"I'm here, _shh_. Relax." He rubbed his hands over her arms to encourage the heat to soak in faster. Less than ideal proposal forgotten, he enfolded his witch with purpose, soothing her until her teeth stopped chattering.

Hermione sighed, snuggling closer to him. "That charm. Did you create it?"

"I lived in a chill, damp dungeon for well over a decade," Snape said, somewhat bemused. "It comes with the territory."

Hermione mrred, coiling herself around his body. "You're _so _wonderful," she murmured into his buttonline.

"_**He is not!"**_ Ron cried, still trying to part them but his hands and body simply went right through them.

Snape's eyes furrowed. "Hn," he muttered, not quite supporting her assessment, but as his eyes cast down to Hermione's left ring finger, a touch of a smile grew on his mouth as he tenderly pressed his lips to her forehead.

Suddenly, Ron startled as he heard a familiar voice yelling in another part of the infirmary.

"_**Take him out of that horrid bubble at once!" **_Molly's voice screeched shrilly.

Ron rushed over to his mother, only to see—

Himself, suspended in a bubble of magic.

Glowing potions goo hung suspended with him inside of the magical bubble.

"Molly, don't touch that!" Madam Pomfrey's voice rang out.

Ron watched his mum recoil in startled horror.

"I want him out of there right now!" Molly cried.

"Don't think that we don't!" Poppy answered sharply. "But we have to very carefully remove the suspended potion globules or he may find himself transformed like many of his fellow classmates."

"Others?" Molly questioned, only then looking around the infirmary and paling in shock.

Molly sat down abruptly, gasping, "What in Merlin's name happened to my boy?"

Minerva's face was dark, scowling at the redheaded witch. "Nothing, if but for the sacrifice of Miss Granger and Severus Snape."

"But had you touched that stasis bubble," Poppy said grimly, "He would be exposed to the transformative potion too."

Molly looked around the crowded infirmary in horror. "But— who did this?! Who did this to my boy?!"

Minerva frowned, then coolly responded, "Your _**son **_did this, Molly."

"_**No, he wouldn't! My Ronnie wouldn't ever do this! He saved us all! With Harry!"**_

"I'm sorry, Mrs Weasley, but Ron _**did **_do this," Harry's voice said, the clip-clop of hooves signalling his gait as he walked. He walked out from behind a privacy curtain, his gigantic antlers almost getting caught in the fabric.

"I was sitting right next to Ron and I saw what he did," Harry added quietly.

Molly's eyes went wide as the blood drained from her face, and she slumped backwards in her chair in a dead faint.

Harry rubbed one leg with his opposing hoof. "Well, that could have gone a bit better."

Minerva let out a pained sigh. "Please help her into the bed here, and we'll deal with her when she wakes up."

Ron felt himself being pulled and stretched, and suddenly he left the floor and shot up and away as if he was sucked up through a straw. Yet, all he could babble as it happened was, "No way my 'Mione would _**ever **_marry that greasy git!"

* * *

It was so dark.

There were whispers all around him.

Ron couldn't move, or at least, he couldn't really feel himself move.

"Do you think mummy and dad left us this meal?"

"Mayyyybe."

"He _is _kinda sprawled out on the dinner table."

"True."

Ron felt himself being poked.

"Ooo, he's nice and warm too. Perfectly fresh."

"Smells a little, though."

"We could always clean him first."

"True."

Ron wanted to scream, but he found he couldn't move at all.

He could only make out three sets of bright green eyes glowing in the dark— seeming to hover in the blackness.

Ron suddenly felt himself being scrubbed down thoroughly, the acidic odour of fresh lemon assaulting his nose.

"That's lots better."

"_Much_ better."

"Do you think his blood is sweet? Or savoury?"

"Depends on if he ate more sweets than any other food, I think. Mummy said something about blood sugar."

"Dad says it tastes like iron— unless it's Mummy's."

Ron heard tsking.

"Mummy is _special_, just like her blood. I don't think that counts. They're mates, after all."

"True. Hrm."

"You don't think eating him will Turn him like Dad Turned Mummy, do you?"

"I don't think so, besides— Mummy Turned Dad back."

Ron heard humming noises.

"Point."

"I'm sure a little taste won't do any harm."

"Mummy says never to share blood unless it's _forever_, Mal!"

"No way I'd ever share my blood with my food!"

"Right?"

"Well, I think he was put here for us," a young male voice said. "He is on our dinner table, obviously."

"Obviously," the two female voices agreed.

"We should say our prayers like Mummy taught us."

"Oh, right. It'd be totally rude not to."

"Dad really hates it when we're rude."

Ron heard more humming.

_Goddess Hecate,_

_Goddess of Night._

_Goddess of Magic,_

_Moon, and things that fright._

_Child of Perses and of Asteria._

_Domain of the heaven, earth, and sea, _

_We thank you for this meal_

_And hope you agree._

_Bless us this food,_

_Dropped on our table._

_We give you our thanks,_

_So you know we are grateful._

"Amen!"

"_Bon Appétit!"_

"_Itte dakimasu!"_

"_Meokja!"_

"Добър апетит!"

Ron felt four sharp pains on both wrists and legs and the sounds of supping, only the supping was on _**him!**_

He would have screamed, but he couldn't move.

And then, only then, his eyes seemed to adjust to the darkness to reveal four young children— if one could call them children at all— each with a limb in their hands as they attached to the place they had bitten.

Two males, two females, their bodies like children from the torso up, but below they wore the body of a great serpent. Each had funnel-like bat ears, paler than alabaster skin, crystalline claws, and glowing, unearthly green eyes.

It wasn't too hard, even for an imbecile like Ronald Bilius Weasley, to see whose parents had gone into the genetic donation— even without the bushy cloud of blacker than black curls, shining and utterly pristine white brushed teeth, and dungeon-pale skin.

Each child dropped their limb of choice, a glowing forked tongue licking across oh-so-sharp, inhuman fangs.

"We should probably clean the table."

"Dad hates when we don't clean up for ourselves."

"True," the two males agreed.

"I think he's paralysed."

"Paralysed or petrified?"

"I think he might be paralysed but working on becoming petrified."

"Good think we had our meal first. Getting blood out of stone is annoying."

"Quite."

Quite whispering stayed just out of Ron's hearing, even as he silently screamed.

"I have an idea," one male said.

"Do tell, Malcomb!"

"You like playing dress up, right Lyssa? Anora?"

"Of course," the two females huffed.

"What about you, Julian?"

The silent, black-haired boy crossed his arms across his chest. "What_ever_."

Malcomb's eyes seemed to glow brighter with unholy glee. "So here's what we'll do—"

* * *

Harry blinked as he walked out into the garden courtyard to find a new statue dressed in shining armor, sword and shield poised as if to battle the great dragon, Muggle-style. Lit jack-o-lanterns surrounded the statue, casting the armoured figure in an eerie, flickering candleglow.

"Hi, Harry," Luna called, reading the latest proof of _The Quibbler_ and taking her red quill to it in places.

"Um, when did we get a knight sculpture?" Harry asked.

"Pretty sure it's new, but it could have been moved here from somewhere else," Luna said. "It is quite dashing there, though, what with the lovely gazing pool and fountain and all."

Harry noticed the children were all busily carving pumpkins for Halloween at the foot of the fountain, both his and Luna's plus the Snapes' along with a few other families from the manor. They'd done very well after the war after Hermione had insisted they assist the goblins in rebuilding Gringotts, and in solidarity to their fellow "non-humans", the investing had set them up with a shared, secret-kept estate where all those touched by the infamous potion explosion could live in peace.

The DoM came to visit from time to time to ensure that the Floo network was working efficiently so they could "Floo commute" in to work, and they had full glamours for their more public needs. Sadly, the glamours worked all _too _well at times, and those like his once-best-mate Ronald Weasley believed he had done nothing wrong. Worse, he'd tried to propose to Hermione, who was happily married, mated, and had already hatched out her first clutch of adorable monsters—not that they could tell _him _that.

Harry stared at the armoured statue. The face was covered by the shining armour, but there was something oddly familiar about it. He couldn't quite place it, though. Ronald had disappeared after Luna had thrown her reality cheque at him—

They were still waiting to see where he'd show up.

_If _he showed up.

"Luna, how long does that reality cheque thing go on for?"

Luna scratched her head. "I really don't know, Harry. I've only had one to use, and he was the first one who desperately needed one— well that was still alive for it to be used on," she replied.

Harry tilted his head. "Where did you get that cheque anyway?"

Luna stood, her editing done. She folded up the paper and put it under her arm. She walked up to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Hecate, of course," she said. "A black dog delivered to me it the day I came home from St Mungo's after having Pandora . The dog came along with a polecat, so it was pretty obvious it was sent by Hecate."

Harry blinked. "Right then."

Sometimes it was better to go on faith that Luna knew what she was talking about, even if no one else did.

He had a Crumple-Horned Snorkack named Hans living in the garden, after all. Who was _he _to judge?

Great beats of gargantuan wings signalled the arrival of none other than Severus. He landed with Hermione, who let out a small hiss of pure happiness. "That was wonderful, Severus," she seemed to purr.

"Nothing but the best view for you, Hermione," he rumbled.

Julian, Malcomb, Lyssa, and Anora dropped their pumpkin projects immediately and flung themselves into their parents' arms and coils.

"Mummy, mummy, come look! We made a statue in thanks to Hecate for the meal she provided us!"

The kids tugged on their mum's wrist, pulling extra hard to budge Severus, who was about as eager to move as a boulder after being interrupted.

They pulled them over to the statue and made "ta-dah"motions.

"That is a very— _shiny— _knight you have made," Severus rumbled lowly, one dark eyebrow arching.

Hermione slithered up, her coils working across the ground like a sidewinder's. Her eyebrows shot up into her hair as she took a closer look at her children's handiwork. "Oh. My. _Merlin_."

She eyed her spawn with great concern. "Are you alright, my loves? Did he attack you?" She looked them over, picking through their hair and robes for injuries.

The children shook their heads. "No, Mummy, but we made sure to thank Hecate for the meal, just like you taught us. He arrived still and spread-eagle on our dining table! Just like Christmas!"

Severus and Hermione exchanged looks as Luna and Harry's children rushed up to place more carved jack-o-lanterns around the statue.

"We have the perfect name for him!" Pandora exclaimed, tail flicking happily.

"Do tell," Severus said, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Sir Ronald the Dunderhead!"

_Shhhhhh_… THUD.

Harry passed out, hooves up, flat on his back on the grass.

Severus's smile was pure wicked glee. "That is a _very _good name. Very good indeed."

The jack-o-lanterns flickered with a warm orange glow as Severus leaned down to cover his wife's mouth with his. "Happy Halloween, Hermione."

Hermione's head-serpents all had a glow-stick clutched in their mouth, and they waved them all festively as Hermione reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. "Happy Halloween, Severus."

Minerva and Kingsley arrived in the garden carrying sacks for candy. "Who's ready for trick-or-treating?" Minerva asked, her feline ears flicking along with her tail.

"_**Yay!"**_ the children gathered around them both, hugging them tightly.

Kingsley smiled as he ruffled each child's hair affectionately. "We'll have them back by tomorrow morning," he promised. "The Ministry promises it will be the best Halloween party they've ever had."

"Do you think we'll win the best costume this year?"

"Let's go put on our costumes!"

"Yeah!"

The group of happy children rushed inside to dress for the occasion.

Hermione smiled at Kingsley and Minerva. "Thank you for taking them all to the event. It's the one day a year they don't have to wear a glamour in public."

Minerva smiled, fangs showing in a feline grin. "It will be our pleasure." She frowned as she saw Harry flat on his back and then looked up at the new fountain-piece. "That's new."

"The children made it."

"It's very life-like."

Severus cricked his neck. "They named him Sir Ronald the Dunderhead."

Minerva's eyes widened as Kingsley belted out uproarious laughter. "I'll take him back to the DoM— tomorrow. For tonight— enjoy the ambiance."

As Kingsley and Minerva exited the garden, carrying Harry into the house with them, Severus affixed his mouth to Hermione's neck. "I plan to."

"Ssssseverus," Hermione moan-hissed, all her head-snakes quivering with delight.

Severus looked into his mate's eyes. "I plan to ravish you all over this garden, my love, so Mr Weasley has no doubt at all whose wife you are."

Hermione's eyes fluttered as her tail coiled around his legs and whipped him off his feet. "Please and thank you," she hissed, her amber eyes filled with desire.

Severus' dark eyes reflected the stars. "Your wish is my command, my lady wife."

Somewhere, deep inside the neglected crevices of Ronald Bilius Weasley's brain, a silent horrified scream continued to echo on and on as Severus and Hermione Snape celebrated a very, very joyous and _wicked _Halloween.

* * *

*Spiders skitter onto screen carrying a colourful decorated sign*

**Happy Halloween!**

* * *

_Fin._

* * *

**A/N: **Busy schedule. RL strikes again! Kudos for Dragon and the Rose for putting up with my… _**SQUIRREL!**_


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